53/90, good morning, person

I woke this morning at 6 a.m. like I always (always) do. I hit my snooze button, thought for a minute and slept for four. I woke up to my alarm at 6:05. I got up at 6:07.

I walked downstairs, fixed a toiled that was completely clogged with Charmin, washed my face, made my pancakes and tried to wake my mind up.

You're not supposed to eat first thing in the morning. But I can't think and I can't bend my knees, let alone do yoga, so what else am I supposed to do?

You're not supposed to have coffee first thing in the morning. I'm trying to abide by this one, so I turn the kettle on.

I walk back upstairs to my room, mug burning one hand and the other hand precariously carrying a plate with a fork balancing on it. The water from the mug is turning red as it steeps, each step sloshing it a bit and adding another surge of color. The sloshing only jumps from the mug and burns my toes once. An improvement.

And then productivity stops. I'd brought my laptop to my bed, ready to finish the next paper I've been working on. I sit with pancakes and book in front of me. When I take my last bite of pancakes, at what's not 6:34, I realize that I've spent the entire time I was eating them just staring at my bookcase.

I believe that it's time to make some coffee. It's time to do yoga on a full stomach, leave the paper and figure out how I'll explain its being late to my professor.

I already know this isn't true. I'll do my paper, print it in my roommate's room, change my clothes five times, pack for St. Louis and decide which class to skip for the day.